First time
by ARedRedRose
Summary: As Sherlock languishes on the sofa after a case, Joan is frustrated by her boredom and inability to relax. Joan joins her on the sofa, and first time smut follows! Femlock - genderswap.


After a frantic few days on their latest case, Sherlock's boredom has returned, and so has her inability to function like a normal human being.

Joan has become accustomed to her ineptitude and ignores her while she sits at her laptop and types up the details of the Study in Crimson for her blog.

However by 12.30 in the afternoon, Sherlock is showing no signs that she'll be doing anything other than camping out on the sofa all day, and Joan feels her frustration rising. _Trust bloody Sherlock Holmes to waste that brilliant mind languishing self-indulgently for days on end. No, not even self-indulgently,_ Joan admits. Self-indulgent when she rattles through her deductions at the scene of the crime then waltzes off to leave Lestrade to pick up the pieces. Self-indulgent when she allows Joan and Mrs Hudson to wait on her hand-and-foot while she relocates to her mind palace. But no, at the moment Joan can only describe Sherlock as inept. Incapable of actually relaxing or switching off properly.

The signs of relaxation appear to be there, to the untrained eye. Sherlock is lying face-down on the sofa, hair ruffled, breathing slowly and shallowly, eyes closed, and with her arm dangling aimlessly off the edge. But Joan knows her flatmate well enough now to know that her brain ticks over. As Joan pauses at her keyboard, the tick-tock of the clock echoes through the flat, with only a light hum of traffic in the background.

Joan sighs and walks over to the coffee table where she picks up the cold, undrunk tea she left for Sherlock earlier this morning and takes it to the kitchen.

As she heads back to sit in her chair, she takes a detour towards the sofa. _Move-up Sherlock,_ she thinks. _If it's going to be like this, I'm quite entitled to veg out too and I'll be reclaiming my half of the sofa._ Picking up the TV control and her mobile on the way, Joan lifts Sherlock's feet and sits down, allowing Sherlock's knees to flex back again and her ankles to rest on Joan's thighs. _Compromise_, thinks Joan. _The essence of our relationship._

Joan flicks on some day-time telly and picks up her mobile to check any comments on the blog, wondering as she does, where to rest her hands. Sherlock's bare calves are staring up at her. Pale, long-limbed, but surprisingly shapely. Joan places a hand on her calf and returns the mobile in her other hand to the arm of the chair. The blog can wait. There's something delightfully vulnerable about Sherlock allowing her to sit like this. Joan smiles and gently strokes Sherlock's calves. 'Mmmm'. Sherlock is apparently still in the room!

Joan contents herself for a few minutes gently massaging Sherlock's silky calf muscles, before raising one foot gently, massaging her way up and nuzzling her face into the sole of her foot.

At the realisation of what she's just done, she lets Sherlock's foot fall again back down over her legs, but not before Joan hears what can only be described as a 'purring' sound from her.

Buoyed by the response, Joan gently picks up Sherlock's foot and places a gentle kiss on the sole, earning another purr from Sherlock. _What the hell am I doing? _She thinks, carrying on anyway, relieving the boredom of the day for both of them.

As she continues to kiss her way over Sherlock's foot, her hands massage back down her lower limbs, reaching the hem of her deep blue silk dressing gown tucked into the hollow behind her knee. Thoughts run through Joan's mind. _Is she enjoying this? Am I? Stupid question …. on both counts._ With her thumb and forefinger, Joan slides her way under the silk and moves up over Sherlock's thigh. _Okay, where do I stop,_ she wonders, immediately answering her own question with, _I don't._

Joan's fingers pause briefly as she reflects on her relationship with Sherlock. Flatmates running on the adrenaline of the work, with only each other as the constant in their lives, no boyfriends, or for that matter, girlfriends of either type to get in the way. And of course, there has always been a sexual sub-text to their relationship. The closeness and tension between them has been obvious to others around them – Lestrade, Donovan, Mrs Hudson – even if they haven't yet acted on it themselves, in the interest of not becoming emotionally compromised.

Sherlock's appeal is her arrogance, her intellect, her long, elegant limbs, English rose complexion and beautiful lips. As Joan's mind wanders, Sherlock moves for the first time since Joan sat down. She gently wriggles her thighs apart, brining Joan swiftly back to the present. _An invitation. _Joan's heart lurches with arousal and she leans forward to brush the back of Sherlock's legs with her lips, teasing lightly and cupping Sherlock's thighs gently with both hands. Sherlock sighs in response, seeming to relax and tense simultaneously, but still holding the pretence of not being in the room. _If that's how you'd like it …_ thinks Joan…

Joan brings one hand back to Sherlock's inner thigh and gently moves up to the top of her long legs. _No knickers_ Joan senses as she brushes Sherlock's hair and runs her hand gently along her slit. Sherlock seems to melt into her hand as she gently opens her wet pussy and lets her fingers find her clit. Joan strokes softly at first, but builds the tension as she gradually increases her speed and pressure. Sherlock quivers and moans quietly, but Joan persists and begins to explore Sherlock with her lips and tongue. _Oh if you're going to maintain your air of detached arrogance, _Joan tells herself, _I'm going to have some fun with you! _

Joan's own excitement takes precedence over the nerves she's feeling, and she squeezes her thighs together, noting her own arousal and feeling a rush of sensation between her own legs. Joan pushes Sherlock's knees further apart, and adjusts herself so that she's directly between them. In one quick movement, she pulls a cushion out from behind her on the sofa, grabs Sherlock's hips and shoves the cushion underneath. Joan sweeps her dressing gown up to her waist now, leaving Sherlock fully exposed.

With one hand Joan returns to Sherlock's clit, eliciting soft moans from her.

With the other hand she glides over Sherlock's thigh, coming to rest on her buttock, before raising her hand and giving her a sharp slap! Sherlock's breath quickens as a result, and Joan braves a few words. 'I'm hoping this will snap you out of your boredom Sherlock'.

'Me too …' replies Sherlock quietly, sounding pleasantly surprised.

As quick as Sherlock replies, Joan gives her another slap, and quickly moves her mouth to her now very wet pussy.

_First times, first times, _thinks Joan as she basks in the heat, taste and arousal that is Sherlock's body. As she explores Sherlock more deeply with her tongue, Joan allows her mind to zoom out and picture the scene – Sherlock stretched out for her, thoroughly debauched.

Whatever changes at that point brings Sherlock to a shuddering orgasm, coming in waves and waves until Joan stills her hand and mouth, allowing Sherlock to melt into the cushions on the sofa once more.

After a minute Sherlock turns onto her side to face Joan for the first time that day. 'You do surprise me sometimes Dr Watson' she says, before pulling Joan down to join her in a long, luxurious kiss.


End file.
